


Unfinished lullaby.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:43:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the victor goes the spoils of war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for June 1, 2008.
> 
> Set in a future where the Vongola have absolutely, totally fucking lost. No, I totally don’t have a fascination for this thing. Nah-uh. No way! … /cough

The song sounds sweet off of that tongue, low and sweet like something perfect and beautiful, but he isn’t too far gone yet, not quite mad enough to take comfort in the voice humming a melody right into his ears. Still sane enough to tense up and thrash about, in another attempt to break free.

 

Hands against his back, and he’s down again, pressed against the hard wood floor and glass shards scattered over them, breath hissing in between his teeth, teeth locking back any sound that might have betrayed him. He grits down harder, when he feels one hand move up, to tangle lovingly in his hair right before jerking his head up, and with it, the rest of his body.

 

Can’t see a thing past the blindfold over his eyes, can’t break out from the straitjacket he’s been wrapped up in. Left to stare right into the void, listening to that song on the way down.

 

That warm body’s pressed up right against his own, and he’s left with no other option but to lean against it, to feel himself nestled against that neck and note the way those fingers press against his skull. A small laugh, quiet and amused.

 

“You’ll tire of fighting me eventually, Mukuro-kun,” Byakuran says, as simple and decisive as a man declaring a matter of absolute fact. “You don’t really have a choice.”

 

Another pause, a kiss to his cheek, and Byakuran starts singing again, singing and stroking his hair and watching the world break apart all around them.


End file.
